


Mandals

by queenofthelot



Series: Swamp Thing Grad School!AU [1]
Category: Swamp Thing (TV 2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:08:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25279039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenofthelot/pseuds/queenofthelot
Summary: Abby believed that there was a lot you could learn from another person’s footwear, and she followed through on this belief on this first evening of her first class of her PhD program.A pair of neon sneakers fitted with crystals in a gaudy yet fashionable way, dress shoes that bore the name “Emporio Armani”, gladiator sandals with toes painted in liquid gold, black boots, and… flip flops. Or what Abby aptly called “mandals”.
Relationships: Abby Arcane/Alec Holland, Abigail Arcane/Alec Holland
Series: Swamp Thing Grad School!AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1831399
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	Mandals

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to everyone who left such kind comments and/or kudos on my last fic in this AU. I have been missing the routine of school and going out with people and I think this piece was born out of that. Thank you again for your kind comments, I hope this fills the Swamp Thing void in our hearts even if it's for just a moment.

Abby looked out of the window next to hear, eyes burning slightly, catching glimpses of the glowing, setting sun. The late summer glow had left the classroom incredibly warm. She knew the university was saving money, writing it off as being more “eco-friendly”, changing the thermostats in the ancient campus buildings. 

But she was nearly sweating and felt ready for a nap. Even after her afternoon double espresso. 

Abby tilted her head slowly, rolling her neck across her shoulders, and then staring at the ground. 

Abby believed that there was a lot you could learn from another person’s footwear, and she followed through on this belief on this first evening of her first class of her PhD program.

A pair of neon sneakers fitted with crystals in a gaudy yet fashionable way, dress shoes that bore the name “Emporio Armani”, gladiator sandals with toes painted in liquid gold, black boots, and… flip flops. Or what Abby aptly called “mandals”.

Mandals are a special kind of shoe. They’re the kind of sandals a dad wears at the backyard barbeque, even though it’s 68 degrees out, but it’s just warm enough to wear a t-shirt and shorts so, why not go all out on the summer look? They might even be called designer sandals. A classy sandal, a sandal with a strap made of leather. Brown, some beige accents. And a supportive sole. 

Abby’s eyes moved up from the mandals, the hairy legs, the khaki shorts, and above the desk that the body wearing the mandals sat. What appeared to be a threadbare Hawaiian shirt also was there, sleeves loosely hanging around thick, tanned arms. 

Abby rolled her neck again, looking at the ceiling this time, and began to contemplate what would motivate a person to wear such a casual look to the first class of their grad school career. It was a seminar class, so, plenty of people from different backgrounds. But this was the time to make connections, to network. What kind of first impression was that guy trying to make? 

“That guy”, Abby learned about 15 minutes into the beginning of class, was Alec Holland. Introduced as the TA for the seminar course after the professor introduced themselves as Amanda Waller. 

Abby had heard rumors about Waller when applying to different PhD programs; Waller was infamous for having high standards and having an intimidating aura. But Waller also had incredible connections in the government, even some higher ups in the CDC. That was when Abby knew she had to land in her class. 

And she had.

But so, had Alec Holland. And Abby was still trying to figure out how exactly one man with a master’s degree and mandals had ended up as the TA for Amanda Waller’s PhD seminar course when the go around of your-name-and-what-are-you-hoping-to-get-out-of-this-experience got to her. 

Abby shook her head quickly, collecting herself. She raised her nose slightly, straightening her posture before speaking. 

“Abigail Arcane, but you can call me Abby. I’m hoping to get experience in studying the nature of infectious diseases, of course, but also to connect with others who are passionate about my field.” Abby smiled to herself, satisfied at her introduction. Neutral but friendly, focused, but not neurotically so. 

There was a moment of silence before a gasp of laughter escaped from a mouth across the room. 

“What is it, Mr. Holland?” Amanda turned to the desk at her left, an eyebrow raised. 

“It’s just- “Alec said laughing slightly, looking between Amanda and Abby, with his gaze meeting Abby’s and settling there (unwelcomed). “I think finding people who are ‘passionate’ about infectious diseases could translate to a, you know, like a clinic or something.”

A couple giggles went around the room. 

Abby clenched her jaw, not expecting anything like this. She felt like a specimen in a lab, being poked and prodded at, provoked. 

Her mouth opened, “Says the guy wearing a Hawaiian shirt. Where did you go for your undergrad? The University of Jimmy Buffet?”

The class fell silence, and Amanda Waller shifted her line of sight to Abby. 

Alec looked down at his desk, shaking his head, but smiling. 

A white flag of surrender. 

“I see you have some fire in you yet, Ms. Arcane. I remember reading your entrance essay.” Amanda kept her eyes locked with Abby, and Abby could feel all eyes in the room fall onto her, “While you seemed incredibly focused on your education and making a significant impact on the world in some way, I was worried there might not be any personality to you. But I stand corrected.” Amanda nodded once at Abby before walking to the podium, grabbing a stack of papers. “And you will all need some fire in you if you are ever going to walk across a stage to receive another diploma.”

Abby looked down at her lap, then back up again, her eyes meeting those of Alec Holland (again). He grinned at her, smirking like he had willed this to happen. 

Had he read her entrance essay, too?

Abby took a syllabus from the stack and passed it to the dark-haired girl next to her as Amanda Waller droned on about tenacity, work-life balance, and the never-ending pursuit of knowledge that everyone in the room seemed to share. 

Outside, the sun set, and the sky turned darker and darker. 

Class ended 40 minutes early. It would have ended 45 minutes early, but Amanda Waller spoke for five minutes about how the students should enjoy the extra free time that evening, as it would likely never happen again for the rest of their time in the program. And Amanda would have gotten to that point five minutes earlier, if Abby Arcane hadn’t had three questions written out on the fresh page of her composition book that had been clearly labeled “ARCANE: SEMINAR 554” on the cover. 

Amanda responded with, “At least you know to hold your questions until the end, unlike some people with tenure.” 

Once class was dismissed, everyone moved slowly to pack up, as if to see who would make the first social move. Abby also moved extra slow, hoping to seize an opportunity to personally introduce herself to Dr. Waller. 

But perhaps she had made enough of an impression already.

And not just on Dr. Waller. 

Abby closed her composition book, capping her ball point pen, and reached down to the floor for her bag. That was when she saw the mandals, followed by the legs they were attached to, the shorts, the shirt. And the face of one Alec Holland. 

“We’re thinking about getting drinks at the bar down the street after this, if you wanted to join in. I’m Alec by the way, although I might not need much of an introduction with you.” He stuck out his hand, and Abby sat up straight to take it, shaking it firmly. 

But then she turned back to her task, grabbing her bag again and placing her items inside. She pulled out a purple folder stamped with the school’s insignia in silver foil, and carefully placed the syllabus in the right pocket. “I suppose I could say the same of myself to you.” 

Abby got out of the chair on the opposite side that was not blocked by Alec Holland and pushed her chair in, beginning to move towards the front of the room to get to Waller. 

But Alec was faster, getting in her way again. 

“Look, I want to apologize. That wasn’t fair what I said. And I would love to apologize by buying you a drink, well a round for everyone including you, and maybe hearing more about your infectious diseases,”

Abby squinted her eyes at him, “Maybe I should just go to the clinic instead,”

A blush spread across Alec’s cheek, realizing how awkward his kind words came off. 

Abby started toward the front of the room, and Alec followed her movements, walking backwards, blocking her path. 

“Okay, okay that one was definitely my mistake. Not on purpose at all. Two drinks then, final offer.” 

Abby looked impatiently past Alec’s shoulder, seeing that Amanda was gone without a trace. 

Abby didn’t know that Amanda Waller had taken the opportunity of two students making conversation to escape the room. It’s not that she wanted to avoid Abby Arcane personally, it’s that she had a glass of wine and some brie waiting at home, and she generally couldn’t stand over-eager students in general (but especially on the first night). In short, Amanda wanted that summer vacation to go on for as long as possible, and if that meant ducking out of class before Abby Arcane could introduce herself, then so be it. 

Alec looked back expectantly at Abby, raising his eyebrows and smiling. “I’m going to ask again. May I offer you a drink? Because I sure as hell could use one.”

Abby sighed heavily, adjusting the strap of her bag on her shoulder, “Something we have in common.” her lip quirked up slightly, offering a small smile. If she couldn’t get on Amanda Waller’s good side the first night, perhaps her assistant was the next best option. 

*****************************************************************************************************************************************************

“I don’t understand why you had to drag Jimmy Buffet into it. I mean, I’m not the biggest fan of his music, but he doesn’t deserve your slander.” Alec Holland said, smirking over a mug of beer. 

Abby rolled her eyes, before taking another sip of her pale ale. “I just have a different taste in fashion, especially when it comes to looking professional,”

“You-you don’t think this is professional? What? Do you think because I’m working for Waller, I have to dress like that kid over there?” Alec nodded in the general direction of Bruce Wayne a table away, looking bored out of his mind as a redhead and blonde with dip-dyed hair chatted away in front of him. Alec leaned in across the table, his voice low “We don’t all have Wayne mansion money, you know. Besides,” he sat back again, casually draping an arm across the back of his chair, “It gives me some flair.” Alec grinned, waiting to see how Abby could argue with him on that. 

Abby looked down towards the floor, then back at Alec’s face, smirking, “The mandals alone would be enough.”

“Mandals! These, these are not mandals!” Alec sat up again, holding one foot out from under the table, and nearly tripping another bar patron on their way to the restroom, “These are flip flops, plain and simple.”

“I’m not going to argue with you about your footwear,” Abby laughed, crossing her arms and sitting back in her chair. 

“But you agree, I have some flair with my clothing choices?”

Abby reached for her beer, taking another sip instead of responding. And then she chose to change the subject. “So, you must be a doctoral student too, right? What’s your field of expertise exactly?”

Alec put his hands down on the table, in fists that began to drum along to the beat of some 80s hair metal song that was barely audible among the din of people in the bar. “Yeah, no. I’m not a doctoral student,” 

Abby made a face, confused. “But you’re a TA, for a PhD seminar class?” She laughed in disbelief. “Tell me how that works.”

“Well I started my Master’s in Botany at Hudson University and had to get a job on campus, you know, work study stuff. I got stuck as a student assistant for Amanda, there. Filing papers, answering calls, that kind of stuff. When she decided to make the move over to Gotham, I was wrapping up my degree, and Amanda offered to move me over with her.” Alec shook his head, as if this all sounded too good to be true, because it felt that way to him sometimes, “She must have used some of her government tactics on the admin here to get me in as her TA. Anyways, I didn’t want to start another degree yet. I’m too broke for that, for now anyways,” He shrugged, his hands stopping their fidgeting, “So, as an alternative, Amanda somehow swung a deal for me to do research at Gotham for the next couple of years. I’m running between her office, your seminar class, and the labs on campus.”

Research? Now, Abby was genuinely intrigued. “What kind of work are you doing in the labs?” She slowly raised her glass to her lips, looking at him over the rim. 

“Nothing that exciting, really,” Alec watched Abby’s eyebrows shoot up and he decided to explain further, “Not exciting to, you know, non-plant people,”

“Try me,” Abby challenged encouragingly and put her glass down. She leaned across the table, placing a fist below her chin and angling her head up in a faux-intimidating glare.

“Basically, I’m looking at the restorative properties of plants; in particular, algae and fungus. The kind of stuff you’d find in a s- “

“-in a swamp,” Abby finished for him, her body suddenly tensing and her eyes losing their sparkle.

“You know of such a place?” He asked jokingly. 

“I grew up in Louisiana. Marais, to be exact,” Abby pulled her arm away, folding her hands into her lap. She grew quiet, lost in thought for a moment. “I haven’t been there in many years, but I remember the swamps, especially in the summer.” She smiled at a memory that slipped away just as quickly as it had entered her mind’s eye. 

“So, then, Abby, as a native Louisianan, I have to ask you, any restorative plants out there in the swamp?”

Abby breathed in, then sighed heavily, “Depends on who you ask. Some people believe in that stuff, but not much in the suburbs where I grew up. We used to hang out in the swamps as kids and teens, hiding out from adults. There was always a tale or two floating around about someone finding a magic cure out there in the trees, on the edge of the water. But, sadly Alec, I never saw or experienced that kind of thing for myself.” She almost adds _I wish I had_ but that story was locked up tight in her chest.

“Hm. Interesting.” was all that Alec could mutter, watching Abby as she took a long sip of beer. He did the same, following her lead. 

“So. Infectious diseases?”

“Yes, infectious diseases. But the kind that are mysterious, don’t have an identified source, mystery illnesses that affect a school and then a town and then a county.” 

“Like zombies?”

Abby resisted the urge to roll her eyes again, “Not quite, but I suppose if that happened in real life the virus would certainly be classified as one.” 

“I’m curious how someone goes from the swamps and suburbs of Louisiana to the streets of Gotham with a penchant for zombie viruses.”

“Well,” Abby’s eyes wandered around the room at the other bar patrons, then came back to Alec, “It’s like a puzzle.”

“A puzzle.” Alec crossed his arms across his chest, settling into his chair and waited for an explanation.

“A puzzle. Look around this place. There are dozens of people here, enjoying a drink or two. But what none of us here are really thinking about is how something could easily spread through a room like this without us even noticing.” Abby looked back at the bar behind her, then back at Alec, “See the bartender over there? Let’s say hypothetically the bartender has a- a zombie virus,” Abby says with a laugh, entertaining the idea of such a thing for the sake of her point, “Hypothetically, again, let’s say he breathes onto a glass to clean a smudge, and then pours a beer in the glass to give to the next customer in line. That customer touches the smudge, then touches their face. Then that person goes home, hugs their kid. The kid goes to school the next day, their parent goes to work. Something is spreading, right?”

Alec nods, trying to figure out where this is going.

“By the time I’m seeing that kid or that bartender, they’re nearing death on a hospital dead. And I, as the infectious disease specialist, have to not only monitor their symptoms to identify what the hell they’re infected with, but I also get to put together the puzzle of how they got infected in the first place. Working backwards, making contacts, and then, if all goes well, should come to a final conclusion on how the disease was spread and how to heal someone infected.” 

Alec continues to nod, a smile spreading across his face, “I can’t believe I’m meeting the person who is going to put an end to the zombie apocalypse before it even starts. Are you ready for your Nobel?”

Abby rolls her eyes but feels a subtle blush creep across her cheeks. 

Their conversation goes on for another half hour, or maybe more, Abby couldn’t remember. Conversation tennis, twenty questions but more eloquent and humorous with each sip of beer and a refill. Something like this:

“Worst thing you did in undergrad?” Alec asks.

“Worst thing? Slept in and was fifteen minutes late to a lab?” Abby replies as Alec rolls his eyes, unbelieving that Abby Arcane is really like that through and through. 

“What are you most looking forward to this semester?” Abby asks. 

_Talking with you, duh_ is what Alec almost blurts out. Instead, he pauses and gets himself in check.  
“Getting to spend more time with my plants.” Alec shakes his head, “No, wait, that’s too boring. Let me think… Trying every dish in the campus cafeteria. Did you see the dessert buffet? That thing is giant. It’s going to take me at least a month to get through one round of desserts alone.” 

Eventually they join back in with the rest of the class for a couple rounds of the kinds of miscellaneous board games with missing pieces that always seem to frequent college area bars. Abby and Alec make a good team for Connect 4, strategizing quickly and efficiently like they are mind-melded together. They kick ass for three rounds before the icy blonde and her red-headed friend take their place. 

Then they go back to talking until closing, a spread of bar snacks and water glasses intermingled with drink glasses spread out on the table in front of them. The rest of their classmates had left sporadically over the last hour, seeming to know what an unknowing couple looked like and leaving them as such. 

Abby tugs her jacket on outside, pulling it tightly across her chest in the chill night air. The stars were barely visible above the clouds, the moonlight just breaking through. 

Alec follows her out of the bar, nudging her arm in the direction of her car. They had both sobered up through pints of water and conversation and sodas and orders of loaded tater tots. 

“Well, Abby Arcane, I suppose this is where we must sadly part,” Alec nods towards the driver’s side door of her car as Abby pulled her keys from the right front pocket of her pants. 

“I suppose you’re right, Alec Holland. It was fun while it lasted.” Abby twirled her keys around her index finger, looking up at Alec, trying to make out his features in the dim light. They looked different than they had in the warm, yellow and amber lights of the bar. Sharper, darker, more mysterious. 

Alec inhaled deeply as he reached past Abby, placing a hand on the door handle and pulling it up, “But I’ll see you again soon,” He smiled down at her as he pulled the door open and held it for her to get in. 

“Drinks on me next time?” Abby says, her hand brushing Alec’s on the door frame as she settles into the seat. 

“Maybe. I would hate to take money from a broke college kid.” He smirks, “Goodnight, Abby. Drive safe.” Alec closes the door slowly as he watches Abby put the keys into the ignition and start the car. 

He taps the roof of the cab and steps away as she turns the headlights on and waves to him through the glass before pulling out of the nearly empty parking lot. 

“I think you’ve encountered a rare species, Holland,” Alec mutters to himself, dragging a hand through his hair, “Rare, indeed.”

The smile on his face lasts the whole ride home, and into the early morning when he finally found sleep. 

*****************************************************************************************************************************************************  
Abigail Arcane<aarcane@gotham.edu> Fri, August 2, 2019, 2:27 AM

to Alec Holland <aholland@gotham.edu>

Hello Alec,

It’s Abby, from seminar class. I wanted to make sure you made it home okay last night (tonight?). I would text you, but I realized we didn’t exchange numbers. 

-Abigail Arcane  
Doctoral Research Candidate ‘23  
Gotham University

Alec Holland <aholland@gotham.edu> Fri, August 2, 2019, 11:34 AM

to Abigail Arcane <aarcane@gotham.edu>

Hey Abby,

Smooth way of asking for my number ;) Yes, take this as proof of me making it home just fine. Embarrassed to admit I have a bit of a hangover. 

Alec Holland  
Research Assistant  
Gotham University

Abigail Arcane <aarcane@gotham.edu> Fri, August 2, 2019, 12:32 PM

to Alec Holland <aholland@gotham.edu>

Good! Great! I was a little worried, but I don’t think I would be as invested in my work if I didn’t have a little bit of “worry wart” in me. 

I was going to make that into a plant joke, but apparently it really is worry “wart” and not “wort”. Darn. 

Abby

Alec Holland <aholland@gotham.edu> Fri, August 2, 2019, 12:34 PM

to Abigail Arcane <aarcane@gotham.edu>

I’ll give you points for trying. Any attempt at plant humor can never be lost on me. I appreciate it. 

Alec

Abigail Arcane <aarcane@gotham.edu> Fri, August 2, 2019, 12:38 PM

to Alec Holland <aholland@gotham.edu>

I should have known the bar for jokes would have to be low for someone who willingly wears mandals. 

Alec Holland <aholland@gotham.edu> Fri, August 2, 2019, 12:41PM

to Abigail Arcane <aarcane@gotham.edu>

Okay, I’m sending my number now so I can more intimately argue with you about why my shoe choice is perfectly adequate. 

Abigail Arcane <aarcane@gotham.edu>

Fri, August 2, 2019, 12:42 PM

to Alec Holland <aholland@gotham.edu>

I’m looking forward to it :)

**Author's Note:**

> Stay safe out there 💖 Abby Arcane would want you to wear your mask and keep your distance. Remember that.


End file.
